


A Short Distance

by Genuinelies



Category: Warcraft (2016), World of Warcraft
Genre: EWP / Emotions Without Plot, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:25:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7728589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genuinelies/pseuds/Genuinelies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Khadgar and Lothar discover that loneliness is sometimes self-inflicted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Short Distance

**Author's Note:**

> My muse feels a little dried up at the moment ;_; I need some happy!ending!canonverse!fic stat.

“Hello, Lothar.”

Anduin turned in shock to look at the owner of that familiar voice. “Kid?”

Sure enough, there, in the far north, a long way from Stormwind and Karazhan, stood Khadgar. The new Guardian was in his familiar blue traveling cloak, Atiesh, Medivh’s old, familiar staff in hand, and a traveling pack over one shoulder.

Anduin looked around. “You have no mount,” he pointed out, his voice incredulous.

Khadgar’s mouth twitched. “Respectfully, Commander, my name is Khadgar. Not ‘kid’.”

“Respectfully, _Khadgar_ , my title is Regent, not Commander,” Anduin shot back with a wondering grin. “You ported here,” he half-asked, half- stated. “Why?”

“Queen Taria said I could find you here,” Khadgar said easily.

Which really was not an answer to his question at all.

“I thought I was going to have to drag you away from the library at Karazhan,” Anduin said.

“But you haven’t, have you?” Khadgar asked, and though his tone was light, Anduin thought to himself, _Ah, there it is._ There was a slight tinge of hurt to the words, and the mage’s eyes had flickered left, if only for the barest of moments.

“I can’t imagine that brought you all the up here to the wilderness,” Anduin said, a bite to his words to cover his guilt.

“Yes, and what are we doing, anyway?” Khadgar looked around them with a puzzled expression on his face.

“We’re helping the Wildhammers,” Anduin said with as much dignity as he could, “Catch gryphons.”

“Catch…gryphons?”

Anduin rolled his eyes, and pointed through the trees. They were standing in a dense forest, but a stone’s throw from them was a snow-covered clearing illuminated by sunlight. In it, several wild gryphons were lazily circling.

“They aren’t tame,” Anduin said. “It’s a pain in the ass.”

Khadgar gave a startled laugh at the profanity. “I think I can help, Lothar,” he said with a grin to his voice. “How many do you need?”

#

Khadgar actually did turn out to be brilliantly helpful catching the gryphons; a few spoken words and he could either tether them or chamber them with the arcane. Anduin was able to fill the Wildhammer stables with more than he’d promised them, and the goodwill he’d hoped to engender by his service had begun blooming by nightfall.

He introduced the young Guardian to the Dwarves, and although they were deeply distrustful of magic, his help with the gryphons had similarly helped to endear him.

That, and the fact that Khadgar could apparently even drink a Dwarf under the table.

Anduin sat back near the fire in the great hall, letting the laughter and babble of conversation surround him like so much water as he watched Khadgar, laughing and carefree as he’d never seen him before, down drink after drink amid happy, raucous Dwarves.

He, however, was nearing even his high tolerance for alcohol, and he was viewing the scene through a blurry film.

Khadgar’s presence was inexplicable. Not unwelcome, but jarring nonetheless.

“King,” one of the Dwarves chortled at him. “Your mage here is going to be one unpleasant traveling companion come morning.”

“You’ll get no help from me,” Anduin called back good-naturedly, correctly guessing that the Dwarf wanted him to interfere and throw the contest to his favor. “What he does with his liver is his business.”

The Dwarf grunted sourly and eyed his drink. He tossed it back, but a moment later made a noise deep in his throat and turned a little pale.

“One too many, hm?” Khadgar said sympathetically.

Lothar laughed into his wrist as the Dwarf bolted from the table, presumably to throw up outside.

“Well, that’s that, then,” Khadgar grinned as he was patted on the back by the rest of the Wildhammers, solid men and women with grins on their faces. A sack of gold was tossed his way.

Khadgar stood up, and tilted slightly. Anduin was somewhat relieved to see evidence that the mage had not in fact cheated. He went over and got an arm under his shoulders. “That’s it,” he murmured, grinning back at the general who’d hired him. The Dwarf gave him a salute with a raised, bushy eyebrow.

Anduin nodded his head in acknowledgment, and walked out of the building into the snowy streets.

The inn was several buildings down. Though Anduin was helping him, he wasn’t exactly sober himself, and the footsteps they left were wide, erratic loops in the snow. Anduin glanced down at the mage several times, but his eyes were always on his feet, his cheeks flushed beneath the dusting of hair.

Anduin patted his chest. “You made some friends back there,” he said.

“Glad I could-“ Khadgar hiccupped. “Help with diplomacy.”

Anduin chuckled, but then Khadgar continued speaking. “That is what you’re doing up here, isn’t it?”

That made Anduin frown. “What else would it be?”

Khadgar merely shrugged while Anduin fumbled with his key. Finally they let themselves into the room.

“The innkeeper probably has another room available,” Anduin said.

“We’ve shared campfires,” Khadgar shrugged again.

“A little different than a bed, kid.”

“I’ll sleep on the rug. Or the chair.”

“You’re drunk, and you’re going to regret that come morning,” Anduin laughed. “If you need money for a room, you know the royal treasury is yours, Guardian.”

Khadgar looked up at him, finally, his eyes alight with mischief. He winked, said a spell with alarming clarity, and his eyes were suddenly bright and focused.

Anduin squinted at him. “Did you just-”

“I can do the same for you,” Khadgar suggested, already forming the words on his lips.

Anduin stared at them longer than was appropriate. “No,” he said, a little sharply.

“No?” Khadgar, who should have sounded surprised, or at the very least taken aback by Anduin’s tone, instead sounded resigned.

Anduin blinked at him unsteadily. “Why are you here, spell-chucker?” He asked.

Khadgar smiled. “Because it’s where I need to be, Anduin.”

Anduin blinked at him, knowing that there was something different about that sentence, but his mind was too hazy to pin down what.

“I’m not giving up the bed,” Anduin said stubbornly.

“Go to sleep,” Khadgar said.

Anduin shifted on his feet, then muttered, “This is ridiculous. You take this room. I’ll go get another.”

Khadgar caught his sleeve. “We could share the bed,” he suggested quietly.

Anduin’s breath caught. For a moment, just for a moment, he considered it. Khadgar’s brown eyes were guileless, but his cheeks were flushed.

_He doesn’t mean it like that._

“Are you sure that spell made you sober? We aren’t sharing a bed, bookworm.” Anduin laughed at him, and left.

#

Khadgar ported them back to Stormwind the next morning, to the surprised delight of Taria.

“I expected you both a week from now. Was there trouble?” The Queen asked, kissing them both on the cheek.

Khadgar gave an embarrassed smile, unable to explain that yes, there was, or at least not in front of Anduin. He couldn’t very well admit that his offer to sober Anduin up had been a test right there in front of the man. Something in her eyes said she understood, though.

“It’s easier to catch gryphons with magic than nets,” Khadgar explained out loud.

“And was the regent of Stormwind catching gryphons?” Taria asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It indebted their general to me,” Anduin said defensively. “And Khadgar made friends with the entire outpost. It will work in our favor when we need their alliance.”

“I drank those Dwarves under the table,” Khadgar said mischievously.

Taria shook her head at the both of them. She turned to Anduin. “You’ve been away three months. Stormwind needs you here. You are no longer just a commander.”

“Stormwind has its queen, sister,” Anduin said. He narrowed his eyes at Taria, and Khadgar thought, _here it comes._ “Why did you send the bookworm after me?”

“Because I knew you’d let him bring you back,” she said lightly.

#

Khadgar was reading in the library when finally, Anduin arrived as he’d expected to confront him. The man couldn’t leave anything alone. He walked up to where Khadgar was working and let out annoying puffs of air between his teeth until Khadgar looked up at him.

“That wasn’t fair,” Anduin said, pinning Khadgar with a troubled stare that had more than a hint of anger. “Ganging up on me with my sister.”

Khadgar shrugged. “I didn’t think we played fair, Lothar.”

Anduin blinked at him. “You called me Anduin.”

“What?”

“The other night. At Aerie Peak. You called me Anduin.” Anduin tilted his head at Khadgar. “What’s going on here?”

Khadgar blushed, and played with the edge of his book. The castle library was quiet and empty around them, candles burning in sconces on the walls. Avoiding the actual question with a real answer, he said, “Karazhan is too dangerous for me to stay. The…fight…we had with Medivh unleashed too much power. It’s attracted unwelcome guests.” The mage shrugged. “So I’m here. I am welcome in Stormwind, aren’t I?”

Though Khadgar’s tone was even and phrased lightly, he still felt his shoulders tense. He didn’t meet Anduin’s eyes as he waited for the regent’s reply.

It only came in the form of an irritated huff. It was enough, and Khadgar relaxed, a slight smile to his lips.

“What does Karazhan have to do with my name?” Anduin demanded, leaning over the table until Khadgar was forced to meet his eyes.

Khadgar lost his smile and fidgeted. “Is it really so important?”

“No one calls me that,” Anduin said.

“Anymore,” Khadgar said, meeting Anduin’s eyes steadily.

The man flinched as if he’d been hit. He straightened.

“Do you want me to call you Lothar?” Khadgar asked.

There was a pause, then a false grin from Anduin. “I don’t care what you call me, spell-chucker.”

He left, his boots heavy on the floor.

Khadgar considered that a victory.

#

The barracks were dark and lonely, but Anduin preferred it to the busy cheer of an inn that night. He sat at his desk with his boots propped up, a glass of mead in his hand and a stack two inches thick of military reports. The Orcs were beginning to push farther north – the reason for his travels to the Wildhammers. The Dark Irons were still being recalcitrant and selfish, unwilling to admit that this otherwordly threat would affect them as well as the rest of Azeroth. Stormwind needed a stronger force to the north, and he hoped the Wildhammers would provide a strong alliance, as well as aerial support on their gryphons.

His mind kept going back to what Khadgar had said though. About Karazhan.

It had been four months since he had been crowned regent; four months in which the mage had been locked up in that hellhole of a tower by himself. He hadn’t thought much on it because he’d been concentrating on not letting the weight of the crown crush him into the earth beside his friends and son. Now that he was thinking on it, however, the guilt was not easy to ignore.

He had left Khadgar there, alone, to clean up Medivh’s mess. He had promised to visit, and hadn’t.

Medivh had had Moroes; Khadgar didn’t even have someone like him by his side. And he was what, twenty? Twenty-one? Twenty-two? Yet he was the one to come after Anduin to make sure he didn’t drink himself to death with the dwarves.

Yes, he had sorted that out. Between Taria’s concern and Khadgar’s artless offer to sober him up, he could figure out why the mage was there, thank you very much. He might not spend his time reading arcane texts, but he wasn’t an idiot.

The things Anduin couldn’t figure out, however, were more subtle. The offer to share a bed in Aerie Peak. The use of his first name, when it had only been those he had considered family who had done so before. The mage was smart; he had to know what he’d been doing.

_But what was that, exactly?_ Was it innocent?

Anduin felt guilty for another reason entirely, even pursuing that train of thought. Khadgar was as good as his son’s age; he was male – not always a problem, but rarer and less easy to sort out without damaging a friendship. He had little to no other friends. And Anduin–

Anduin was an old, battlescarred widower on his way to alcoholism. He stared at his mead – his first glass, his almost full glass – and put it back on the table.

_Right,_ he thought to himself.

He was the regent of Stormwind. He needed to make Llane proud.

_He needed to make Khadgar proud._

#

“Your glass is full.”

Anduin startled awake, almost falling out of his chair. As it was he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t already – his feet were on the table, and asleep he should have tilted to the floor hours ago.

Khadgar was standing in the doorway, leaning on the frame with his arms crossed under his blue cloak.

For some reason, that had Anduin’s heart in his throat. “Are you leaving?” He asked.

Something in Khadgar’s eyes shuttered off. “Do you want me to?”

“I didn’t say that, spell-chucker,” Anduin said, his voice quiet.

Khadgar gave him a half-smile, his mustache twitching sideways with his lips.

“I’m not leaving,” Khadgar said. “It’s cold outside. Five a.m. It’s getting to be the winter.”

Anduin squinted at him at that. “Five a.m.? You woke me up at five a.m.?”

Khadgar did smile fully at that. “I was afraid you were lying in a ditch, or the canals. Not down here working yourself to death.”

“You should talk,” Anduin huffed. “Did you sleep last night, bookworm? Or did you fall asleep in the library with your face in the inkwell?”

“I did that once. Once, Anduin. How did you know that?” Khadgar asked softly.

Anduin looked back at him, unsure how to answer.

_I was worried,_ he could have said. _When I lost Callan, I tried looking after you, instead._ That he couldn’t have said, not really.

Khadgar had never needed someone looking after him. More often that not he looked after Anduin, after all, didn’t he?

Khadgar did, however, need respect. And friendship. Anduin had tried to do that for him, but then he’d left for Karazhan.

A month after that, Anduin had left for the Wildhammers.

It was more causation than correlation.

Khadgar had come to sit on Anduin’s desk without him noticing. Khadgar picked up a quill, twirling it between his fingers. Ink-stained, calloused fingers. Not the fingers of the sheltered, innocent mage that Anduin had mistaken him for at first. These were fingers that could stick themselves into the throat of a dead man looking for infectious, evil magic without flinching.

“I’m sorry for not coming to Karazhan, Khadgar,” Anduin confessed. “I should have.”

“You are the regent of Stormwind,” Khadgar said. “I didn’t expect you to, until I came here and Taria told me that you weren’t here.”

Anduin looked up at him. After a moment, he nodded. That was fair.

Khadgar put the quill back. Anduin caught his hand. Khadgar’s brown eyes were wide and depthless in the flickering candlelight of the room.

“Why did you ask me to share a bed with you in Aerie Peak, spell-chucker?” Anduin asked bluntly.

Khadgar smiled one of his rare, tooth-filled smiles. He gave a laugh. “Because I wanted to, Anduin.”

Anduin was beginning to recognize those smiles as the most pain-filled. “And even drunk, I wouldn’t,” Anduin guessed. “So why are you here, bookworm?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Khadgar asked. He looked down at their joined fingers instead of Anduin’s face.

“Because I was drunk,” Anduin admitted. He smiled at Khadgar as the mage looked back up at him. He got up and stepped into Khadgar’s space.

Khadgar slipped off the desk so they were standing chest to chest. He looked up at Anduin.

“I had a lot of time to think,” Khadgar admitted. “While I was alone. I was given some advice, and I’ve been bad about taking it. About how being alone makes us weak. So when Karazhan became too much, I came here. And you were gone.”

Anduin swallowed heavily. He could flirt his way through the Horde itself if he had to, but this sort of confession he had never been good at.

“I don’t think it just applies to Guardians, Anduin. Medivh’s advice.”

“You were gone,” Anduin countered, then became sharply honest. “Just like-“

Khadgar pushed up and swallowed his words with his lips, his light mustache scraping against the thicker hair on Anduin’s face. Anduin’s eyes widened, and then he was kissing him back, pushing Khadgar backwards over the desk.

Khadgar used an arm to clear it, Anduin’s two inches of paperwork scattering across the floor. They kissed until they were breathless, their tongues having dueled and with lips bitten red.

Anduin smiled down at Khadgar’s flushed face. “So we don’t let each other be alone,” he said, precisely. “Whenever we can.”

“That was what I thought, too,” Khadgar answered, a happy light in his eyes.

Anduin bent down again to kiss the smirk from his lips. Beside them, the tankard of ale balanced precariously on the edge of the desk, forgotten.

It was a start.

 

 


End file.
